ONLY IN ITALY? Tools of the Trade: Who's into manual? (Part one of two)

In Italy, when they haven't got the garden tool you want, sometimes they will offer to make it for you! Let me explain. 

 

Cape Cod weeder? Nah, never heard of it. This is the land of MACHO power tools. Manual ones, the only kind I like, are scorned by most Italians as being "for sissies like the English.” I remember the howls that greeted my question about where to buy a manual lawn mower. Go back to England, lady! Never mind that I'm not from there. According to these dudes with their giant gas-guzzling weed whackers, I might as well be. 

 

YAY! I finally got this beauty from Germany, which works great in small spaces, via the internet

And now, back to that explanation I mentioned in my first paragraph about the offer to make me a tool that didn’t exist. You have weeds in your Italian garden. Do you know where your estirpatore is? When I first heard that word, I had a FLASH to when I was singing Mendelssohn's "Elijah," the most thrilling moment of which was when the good guys were about to "EXTIRPATE THE FOES." (Had they had an estirpatore, the closest thing to a Cape Cod weeder available in this neck of the woods, their troubles might have been over sooner.)

 

So it was only fitting when I found out that the name of my most useful garden tool would be the Italian word for extirpator: "estirpatore."

 

My garden can't live without one, and two is even better. So when I went back to the estirpatore store to get what I recalled as the longer, standing version of this hand tool, I was surprised to hear that it doesn't exist. But no matter. Signor Baldini found the right handle, made a hole into which he screwed my new little estirpatore, the last in stock, and 

 

Presto!

Bibbety-bobbity-boo!

Voilà! 

Those weeds are already quaking!

 

And speaking of quaking, when I went to the tool store to buy my very first tool, the falcia (scythe) that Farmer Galli had recommended, the nice salesman looked a bit worried about putting such a VERY SHARP object into my clearly inexperienced hands. 

I managed to get it into the car without killing anybody. But when I showed my proud purchase to Farmer Galli himself, I got the impression that he might have had similar concerns. Nevertheless, he patiently taught me how to use it, emphasizing that it would be a good idea NOT to cut off any fingers or poke any organs with it. He's a brave man, but I think I noticed him giving me a wide berth when I was swinging it.    

Pictured here are a few of my favorite tools. 

These plastic rakes are a LOT quieter than the vibrating gizmos that shake the olives off the trees.

My indestructible Cape Cod Weeder likes to laugh at my flimsier Italian estirpatore.

What's better than a one-sided Zappa, which reigns supreme as the king of tools? A queen-sized Zappa with two sides--one for digging, the other for picking up, without having to bend over, the poor weeds that didn't stand a chance. 

From top to bottom: the long-handled version of the estirpatore made by Signor Baldini just for me, my Slovenian hoe, the invincible Cape Cod Weeder imported in my suitcase, a British weeder which is compact and effective, and the short-handled estirpatore which I love even though it's not as strong as the rest of my arsenal.